critters

There's critters in my attic
I can hear their tiny little claws
scratching at the rickety pinewood floors
as they scurry to a better hidding place.

But, they arent really hidding
only being obnoxious
to see how fast it takes me to vomit
from their utter-fucking-insatiable sounds.

Sometimes, at night
during the deep dark black
I can here the fuck and howl
they multiply like rabbits without all the cute and cuddlyness

As they nest up stairs with no extermination in sight
they will laugh and they will play
oblivious to the real  right beneath them
the hate monger growing downstairs
overflowing with the urges

He toddles away into his little notebook
hoping for just a bit of peace
a bit of rest and restoration
because deep inside he already knows

we will sleep when we are dead.

suicide trees .

The truth is a beautiful thing,
under certain shades of putrid trees.
Everything grows up and out,
in an awkward sort of stance
no matter which way the light shines down.

We are the roots spreading apart,
in an unorthodox attempt to make
time and time again, a better home.
Something solid and will last
throughout everyone elses ages to come.
At least until we are paved for more parinking-lots.

The soil is damp with the blood of life.
My nostrals are clogged
with the same puggnant stench of death.
He's showing his face all around me,
hidden my a vail of smiles and laughs.
Disshoveled earth and brimstone.

We count back the days to the end,
forgetting which one of them is more likely to come first.
Like calling a set of twins over for dinner
who hate eachother and come sepperate,
then mistaking one for the other.
We just might be able to get it right

on a prayer...or a lucky guess.

Deserted .

I used to be one of you
now im just one of me
sitting in a starless bug infested cloud of smoke
dawned with some laughs
and tons of people i will never know
but am supposed to stick closer than life to

The truth is, we hate eachother
and theres no turning back from that

Headphones rescue my ears like dual superheros
coming to the aide of someone too needy
to listen to the dangers around them
i need somewhere to go
but this is the only place i have to be

deserted

Amazing Race

And the story goes...
I no longer have a clue where I am
We came so close to knowing
but have forgotten once again

It's dark out without a cloud in the sky
no stars, no planes, no birds
this world is dead
to the rest of the world around it

my eyes of turn from tomatos to cocaine
a shinning crimson, unearthed from my soul
replaced with dust and cleansing
like flesh to the waters

We are almost there
You can tell by the way the ashes litter the ground
like tulips being thrown at someone elses funneral
that you can see from your casket rows behind them

At the end of this egg hunt
there is always the final task
everyones hoping to make count
just to get home.

It was another late night. The blinds weren't up to actually be able to tell, but i knew. It just felt that way.
As i reached to slip a hand between them to close the widow, i was spotted by a seemingly friendly women standing beneath the walk way of my appartment. She smiled and waved, so i waved back. I wasnt sure, but i dont think i looked as friendly from my groggy state of being.

I sat back down to finish out dreaming of the sleep i knew i couldnt get back to. That's when i noticed the samefriendly woman from downstairs standing not by the door, but on the stairs staring into it, as if she could see through to the other side. I let her in.